Disclaimer: I own nothing. Isn't that sad?

A/N:

BTW, for those of you who have guessed where they are, let me make it clear that it is NOT where I live. I live somewhere else, but I like to visit the area alot.

Also, yes the first act of my season 6 "The Blorthog Project" is now up. Go check it out.

Chapter 10: Fireside Chats

-DG-

The Cabin

Location Unknown

I have to get out of here.

Dick didn't know what Slade's problem was, but he could assume that whatever Wintergreen told him wasn't good news to Slade.

Since he was sent to his room so unexpectedly Dick began to look around. Most of the time he was too exhausted to do anything and usually collapsed onto the bed. He usually didn't have this much free time, but he thanked whoever—or whatever—saved him from another few minutes with Slade.

You're smart enough to do this! He thought. Come on, Grayson!

Dick understood that he wouldn't be able to escape. But if he could somehow contact the JLA or the Titans and be in contact with them then he may be able to form a plan. If he could find some way to disable the nanobots in the Titans then he wouldn't have to be with Slade anymore. Well, if Slade held true to his threat that he could keep him here without threatening to use the nanobots then at least the Titans would be free from harm.

However, he felt as though he was being slowly suffocated by some external pressure pressing down on him. He was learning things he would rather not know. A week or two ago he thought that he just might be able to handle this new life, but now Slade had crossed the line. Dick couldn't allow himself to cross it either.

He collapsed onto the chair and banged his head against the desk. Who was he kidding…Slade would make sure that he wouldn't be able to escape or contact anyone. Right now, all he wanted to do was talk to them. Even if he couldn't see them or be with them he wanted to speak with his friends. He knew that they were still looking for him. Dick wanted them to know that he was fine. Sometimes, one didn't realize how precious friends or family or loved ones were until they were taken away.

Wait a moment...

His blue eyes widened in astonishment as he thought of something. Yes…yes of course. But how could he do it?

Dick straightened, ideas bursting in his head like fireworks on the fourth of July. There was a way to contact the Justice League. Slade had unwittingly given him the information he needed to make it possible.

Now excited, he made himself sit still to think his plan through. There was always the possibility that he would fail and that he would have to wait for Slade to give him more lessons, but he could be patient. It would also require him to make sure that Slade was continually in a good mood so that he wouldn't suspect anything. But all of the materials that he needed for his plan to succeed were here in this room. Well, except for a few things. He was going to have to be sly about getting those.

But for now, he needed to focus on his location. There had to be a way. He thought of all of his training with Bruce. He even thought of everything that Slade taught him. What could he use? What could he do? Hold on…he did know a way! He almost hit himself in the head for not thinking of this before. Of course, not just any sixteen-year-old boy would know how to do it, but he wasn't just any kid. Dick knew the general method for doing this but had never done it before, so there was also the chance for error. Like he told Slade before, he wasn't good with numbers.

Where am I…he thought. I was wrong before...it is completely possible to figure this out.

Well, judging from the duration of the plane ride, the sudden change in altitude, and the elk sightings he could conclude that he was somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. That was a general estimation. Even if he did manage to contact someone he couldn't just tell them he was somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. They could be in Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, Idaho…Montana…any of those states were fair game. He wanted to think Colorado—that's how he had been mentally referring to his location for the past week—but it wouldn't be beneath Slade to take him to some random backwater location. And he didn't know enough about Rocky Mountain geography to pinpoint a specific place.

He had hoped that he would be able to spot other people. If he could spot a license plate or something then it would help him narrow down his search. Dick could assume that he wasn't anywhere near a large tourist spot like the Grand Tetons or Yellowstone or Jackson Hole due to the lack of people around here. And Slade wouldn't take him near those places anyway.

Come on, I've figured out this much, Dick thought to himself. Anything is possible. Anything.

He glanced out of the window. It was getting dark. Soon the sun was going to set. Dick shut his eyes and tried to think of a way to do this without attracting too much of Slade's attention.

Dick stood up and went to the bookshelf. There was a basket full of arts and crafts things on the bottom shelf. He went through it and found a pair of child's plastic scissors. Good. He would need that. With the pair of scissors in hand he went back to the drawer and began to pull out clothing. Dick paused for a moment before choosing a pair of boxers. He began to cut the bottoms off as neatly as he could. Wintergreen would notice if he disfigured them too much. He pulled off hanging threads and set them down on the desk.

Now the next order of business. Although he didn't want to do this, Dick knew that he would have to. After glancing through the books on the shelf he took one in the right size and began to cut the cover off. Unless Slade really wanted to read him a bedtime story Dick had to hope that no one would notice. He took another look in the arts and craft basket and found a roll of masking tape and a pen that didn't hold any more ink. What else would he need…?

Dick looked around the room. The better question was what he could take or transfigure without Slade or Wintergreen noticing. He opened the desk drawer and found two pink erasers. One of them would do.

He hoped to God that Slade or Wintergreen wouldn't walk in on him now, or else they would demand to know what the hell he was doing. Eventually he would have no choice but to confess the finer details of his escape plan. If Slade found out then he would probably take away everything, congratulate him for being so clever, and then beat him for it.

He knew that he was going to have to improvise as he went along. He paused and listened for footsteps. He heard nothing except Wintergreen's muffled voice. He looked down at the materials on his desk and decided to put together the thing later. At first he wanted to use the actual protractor he used while studying mathematics with Slade, but then he realized that he would have to dismantle it every time he had to get the math book out. He would just have to painstakingly copy the numbers onto the stiff back of the book cover. That would only allow for a greater percentage error, but it would have to do.

Dick also knew that he was going to have to persuade Slade to let him stay outside more often. Or if they went hunting then it would provide another opportunity. This may not be the best of plans, but it was a crude one and was better than having none. Sighing, he put the materials away and then sat back down on the bed.

Just in time, as well. He heard a pair of heavy footsteps coming closer and closer. Only a few seconds until Slade came back for him. It would take all of his effort and self-control to fool Slade into thinking that he was a loyal apprentice.

He prayed to God that his plan would work.

-BB-

Jump City, California

Professor Chang's Lab

"GAH!"

The scrawny professor cringed as Cyborg held him up in the air, preparing to slam him against the wall again.

"I told you that I know nothing!" Professor Chang gasped.

Beast Boy scowled along with the rest of the Titans, his arms crossed over his chest. For the past half-hour they had been trying to get Professor Chang to talk about Robin, but it seemed as though he was unwilling to tell them what happened. A nasty purple bruise was forming on Chang's pale cheek where Cyborg had hit him.

"Don't. Lie," Cyborg growled. "You were the one that Robin got his Xinothium from. Who else do you supply it to?"

Professor Chang scowled at them. None of them had time for this. Beast Boy found that he didn't have anything funny to say, so he stayed quiet. Beside him Starfire was also quiet. She came back from Gotham a couple of days ago, bringing news of the dead body of a Wayne Enterprises employee found in Crime Ally.

Chang squirmed in Cyborg's grip and cursed under his breath.

"Why should I talk to you children?"

"Because we have the power to arrest you," Cyborg said.

"Ah…not really. You have the power to take me to the people who can arrest me. You don't have the power to arrest me, vigilantes."

Beast Boy could tell that Cyborg and Raven were getting tired of Chang's attitude. He acted like a big bad villain, but he was really a coward at heart. He just pandered to the tougher villains by supplying them with Xinothium.

"Listen, tin man, Robin was a nasty boy who bullied his way in here," Professor Chang snapped. "He likes to play with dangerous toys."

"That's not the point of this conversation," Raven snarled. "We need information about who you supply Xinothium to, Chang. Now."

It hadn't taken long for Cyborg to track down Professor Chang. As soon as he downloaded the molecular structure of the unstable element to their communicator it had only been a matter of minutes for them to track the source here. When they came in Chang attempted to shoot them down—but to no avail. As Cyborg raised his fist again Chang flinched.

"Fine," Professor Chang wheezed. "The Boy Blunder came in here eight months ago looking for Xinothium. He wouldn't tell me what he was going to use it for."

"And?"

"And then Deathstroke came to me looking for his own supply of Xinothium. Of course, since your Boy Blunder took all of mine I didn't have any to give to him."

At this the Titans fell silent.

"What did you tell him?" Beast Boy asked.

"That Robin took his supply, of course."

This needed no further explanation from Professor Chang. Even for someone like Beast Boy who wasn't trained as a detective he could see the events unfolding like a grand parade. If Robin had taken Slade's stash of Xinothium, then that obviously would have caught Slade's attention. Beast Boy could practically feel the anger emanating from the other Titans. Here was one of the reasons why Robin was in the situation that he was in now. Robin had unwittingly left information that allowed Slade to stalk him, thanks to Chang here.

At this Cyborg let go of Professor Chang, who dropped to the floor like a ton of bricks. Professor Chang stood up and brushed dust away from his sleeve. To Beast Boy's right Starfire's eyes began to glow with fury.

"You are a bad man!" Starfire shouted, pointing a finger into Professor Chang's chest. "Did you not realize what you have done?"

"What happened to Robin was not of my doing, pretty girl," Professor Chang replied, a sly edge to his voice. "It was his own fault. What else was I supposed to say to Deathstroke, hmm? No one messes with him."

Wow. Chang sounded like a total sleezeball. Yet even Beast Boy knew that Chang had a good point. Once the Titans realized just how dangerous Slade was they became more wary. No one in the Jump City criminal underground wanted to mess with Slade.

"You could have said nothing," Raven said.

"And gotten myself in a body cast? I don't think so."

"That doesn't we can't put you in a body cast, Chang," Cyborg growled. "Give us a list of your contacts."

"Or you'll do what, exactly?" Chang's thin lips spread into a leer. "Beat me? Arrest me? You'll be no closer to finding your friend than before."

Even Beast Boy wanted to beat this creep up. Just…everything about this guy was creepy. The way he talked…the way he looked…everything just made the flesh between Beast Boy's shoulder blades crawl. It was hard to believe that Robin had done business with this guy.

And unlike some of the other villains they've encountered, Professor Chang openly mocked them about Robin's situation. While the Titans had managed to keep the media quiet about the real situation the entire criminal underground now knew about it. The Titans hadn't noticed until a few days ago. Word had somehow gotten out that Robin was working for Slade now, which brought sniggers to most. Of course, they would never jeer about it in Slade's face or the Titans. Beast Boy had a feeling that both sides knew that Robin was becoming more dangerous under Slade's tutelage. He was now a threat to both sides.

"Do you supply Xinothium to the HIVE Academy?" Raven asked.

"They're one of my top buyers."

Beast Boy wondered when they were going to bad this guy. It didn't matter what kind of information he gave them, he still needed to be arrested for smuggling Xinothium into the city.

"Um…so what do you plan on doing?" Beast Boy asked.

"We're going to arrest Professor Chang," Raven said, "but we're not going to confiscate his stash of Xinothium. We need to control the amount of Xinothium in the city."

"What?" Cyborg asked. "The hell do you mean by that?"

"If we're going to pose as villains then we need to build up our credibility. We'll create personas who have kicked out all of the other competition so that the HIVE Headmistress will be forced to come to us."

This was flirting so close with the line. The others didn't look happy at this. Not at all. And why should they? Even Beast Boy was hesitant to agree with this plan. This was going beyond undercover. Although Beast Boy was usually optimistic he understood that so many things could go wrong. So many things probably would go wrong.

"I do not think—" Starfire began.

"We'll discuss this later," Cyborg said, "let's just bag Chang and get out of here."

-BG-

Gotham City

Gordon Residence

Barbara sat at her desk and looked over the files on her laptop. She was home for the weekend, which was unusual in itself. Although she usually stayed at school all the time she found that she wanted to come home. Bruce needed her help, so she spent her weekends out as Batgirl instead of hanging out with her friends.

She also wanted a sneak peek into her father's files as he nearly overworked himself trying to solve this case. From what she could gather the commissioner was working on two major cases at once. On one hand he was directing the search for Dick Grayson alongside the Jump City Police Department. Now he was directing the case concerning the body of the Wayne Enterprises employee found in Crime Ally.

Like the good policeman that he was, Jim Gordon hadn't failed the notice the correlation. He correctly assumed that the dead body had something to do with Dick Grayson's disappearance. Sometimes Barbara wondered whether or not her father knew the truth about Bruce Wayne and Batman. She never asked because she knew that he would never answer that question.

For some reason, though, she felt as though she was working by herself on this. As Batgirl she only worked with Batman and not the Justice League. Dick had the Titans to help him, but Barbara never went out to start her own team. Well, not yet anyway.

Her Bat communicator rang.

"Hi Alfred," Barbara said, flipping open the communicator, "What's up?"

"Bruce has found nothing, but I am making him rest for the time being."

"Good. He needs it."

Barbara leaned back in her chair and looked over the files. Since Bruce was so determined to find Slade she noticed that he hadn't been keeping track of Gotham's regular villains, so Barbara decided to do it for him. Wasn't it strange that none of the regular crazies were plotting anything?

For Gotham, that was strange indeed.

She readjusted her glasses and began to hack into the Gotham Police Department's private files. While away at school she had refined her computer skills. In a way, if she had to quit being Batgirl for one reason or another she figured that she could at least help the superhero community out by relaying information to them…or something.

"Alfred, the police haven't turned the Bat signal on lately, have they?"

"No, as far as my knowledge goes. Wouldn't you know? Why don't you ask your father?"

"He's not here right now." Barbara tapped her keyboard impatiently. "I don't want to disturb Bruce if he's sleeping."

"Why? What's the problem?"

"It's the lack of problems that have me worried," Barbara replied, "I'll call you later tonight."

She turned off her Bat communicator and began to search for news online. According to the Daily Planet most superheroes across the country were still dealing with their regular villains. This only solidified her theory that Slade was out to get Batman. But how on earth would Slade have managed to silence the Bat villains? Even the Joker hadn't been seen lately…unless he was planning something big.

Now that she thought about it, the only criminals that she and Bruce had been bagging these past few nights were petty criminals. This lack of villainous activity allowed Bruce to put most of his energy into finding Dick. Perhaps that was exactly what Slade wanted. Perhaps Slade had arranged for the Bat villains to stay away from him.

Barbara turned off her computer and gently closed the laptop. Bruce may be the best detective in the world, but in a way Barbara was also his protégée. She was his partner, although Dick was the obvious heir to the Batman mantle should Bruce ever (god forbid) step down or die. Her relationship with Bruce was more of a mentor while for Dick it was…in essence…a mentor and a father. Of course, she had never once heard Dick call Bruce father, and why should he?

Perhaps it really was just a coincidence that Gotham's major villains weren't acting up. But as a Gothamite and Batgirl Barbara didn't believe in coincidences. She also had been trained as a detective and now she was going to get to the bottom of all of this.

-SW-

The Cabin

Rockies

To Slade's great surprise, Dick went about following directions without much complaint.

Perhaps it was the threat to kill his friends that made him so quiet. If the kid had decided to make this harder for himself by being a brat then Slade didn't know whether he could hold his temper or not.

They spent the next morning going over preliminary safety issues. Mostly Slade made him get familiar with the different aspects of the gun before they went outside to shoot them. It wouldn't do to have his apprentice shoot his eye out on the first day. Although Slade didn't want to treat him like a child he knew that he still couldn't trust him completely.

Slade made him memorize the different parts of the rifle. Like anything else that Dick did Slade felt pride whenever Dick did something right. It was the feeling that he was finally doing something right. Not only when Dick did something right, but did it of his own free will. When he did things because he took the initiative and not because he was being forced to do it.

"There aren't any casings in it," Slade said, "you'll be shooting blanks for now."

Dick nodded curtly.

It looked odd to see such a skinny kid holding a weapon like that. Without the mask and uniform Dick didn't look all that intimidating. If he hadn't been training so hard and building his muscles then he probably wouldn't have been able to hold the gun. Dick lifted the gun up.

"You don't want to hold it there," Slade said automatically, "I'm sure you know all about recoil."

Well, shooting blanks wasn't going to give the gun much recoil, but Slade needed to install good habits. The younger man shut his eyes tightly, as though trying not to make himself snap back. The moment seemed to pass. He re-adjusted the position. Good. He was listening today.

"That's not too heavy for you, is it?"

Dick shook his head.

So, the kid wasn't talking much today. Slade could tell from the way he slouched his shoulders and the blank expression on Dick's face that his mind wasn't completely here. Well now, he couldn't have that.

"When you wield weapons you need to find the one right for you and your fighting style. Obviously yours is more fluid due to your natural acrobatic skills, so you probably won't be handling heavier guns in the future. However, it is good to be familiar with a number of different weapons."

Yes, guns wouldn't be the end of it. Slade himself preferred to use a sword, but depending on the contract he didn't hesitate to use guns. He noticed that Dick's hands were shaking slightly as his hand moved over the safety. His nervous movements were hampering his grip on the weapon.

"Don't slouch like that," Slade said, not able to take it any longer, "stand up straight. Hold it like this."

Before Dick could protest Slade put a hand on his arm and re-adjusted Dick's handle on the weapon. This action triggered memories of Slade teaching Grant how to do exactly this, only his eldest son learned when he was much younger than Dick was now. Instead of a grimace Grant learned with a big smile on his face. Slade mentally shook himself. However much he wanted to compare the two, he had to keep reminding himself that Dick wasn't the same person.

Gunshots filled the air as Dick practiced under Slade's watchful eye. Of course, he wasn't actually shooting anything yet, but Dick needed to go through the motions until it became muscle memory. That's what Slade did in the military: drills.

"I'm going to put one real casing in there," Slade said, taking the rifle from him and loading the cartridge, "aim at the target. It'll give you a feel for the recoil."

For a moment Slade thought that Dick wouldn't do it. The kid looked glumly at the rifle before rising it and shooting. He nearly jumped backwards when he pulled the trigger, surprised by how strong the recoil was. As he rubbed his shoulder, where a bruise would definitely be blooming, Slade looked at the target. Not too bad, considering the fact that this was the first time Dick had handled this kind of weapon.

And to top it all off, Dick had not a single defiant word against him. None at all today. This must be a record.

"Good work."

Of course Slade knew that he was going to do a good job. Even when he was doing something that he disliked the kid still made an effort to be the best. Sure, Slade was making him, but he knew when Dick was trying hard and when he was doing just enough to get by.

In fact, Slade was so pleased with the day's work that he decided not to go ahead with the evening's plans to continue Dick's studies in robotics. He would leave Dick alone for a few hours. Normally he would have hated wasting time like this, but he decided that he should give the kid some sort of reward for not backtalking to him today. Besides, Slade needed to talk with his men across the country to make sure that the JLA and Titans were being kept on their toes. With Wintergreen casually watching Dick, Slade went about his business without much thought.

Once he came back from the shed he found Dick sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, reading a book. Of all things…seeing him do something as normal as that was strange. Maybe Slade had known him for far too long as Robin the Boy Wonder. Seeing him so calm and unresponsive to Slade's presence was also strange. Slade was used to being glared or scowled at whenever he walked into the room, but now Dick was ignoring him.

Slade wondered vaguely what Dick used to do in his free time back in Wayne Manor. He knew that Robin dedicated most of his free time to hunting down criminals, but what did Dick Grayson do? For once he decided not to bother the kid as he walked towards the kitchen.

"Have you ever once stepped back and looked at the damage you've caused?" Dick asked, so quietly that Slade almost didn't catch it. "How you make people suffer…?"

He didn't sound angry or sad even. Slade got the sense that Dick wasn't going to pick a fight with him. On his part, Slade didn't want to pick a fight with him either. Slade stopped and looked down at him. Dick's eyes were still on the pages of his book, which Slade recognized as a copy of Sherlock Holmes.

"Why should I?" Slade asked. "If people get hurt because they're in my way it's because they're weak. If you allow yourself to bend to another's will—"

"So you're saying that I'm weak."

It was more of a statement than a question. Slade hadn't even realized that he was talking himself into this corner. No, he didn't want Dick to think that he was weak. Of course the boy wasn't weak. Not in strength or in personality. He was still so much a naïve child, a child full of potential. If Slade thought that he was weak then he wouldn't have picked him as his apprentice. Surely the boy must have realized that. However, Slade could see why Dick would think himself weak.

He knew that every time he had to force him to do something he was overpowering the boy. That would make anyone feel owned…weak…guilty…hatred for one's self for not being able to be strong. But a weak person would have simply given up…Dick did not. Out here it was survival of the fittest, where the strong would swallow the weak. Eventually Dick would realize that he wasn't weak, and that what Slade was offering him would only make him stronger. Like how Goblin steel would only take in materials that would make it stronger, so Dick would learn to fortify himself. Learn that the relationships he held with the Titans were only holding him back…because any one of them would give in. He would not. Slade would know when Dick was ready when he was ready to sever those bonds…by himself. Of course, Slade had the good sense not to tell the boy this all at once.

"No, Dick, you're not weak." As Slade said this he moved around and took a seat in an armchair next to the couch. "Not at all."

"What am I then, if not weak for letting myself be manipulated by you?"

Even now Dick was still beating himself up for not foreseeing the telltale signs of Slade's trap. Yes, the boy had weaknesses. Everyone had weaknesses. It was a simple fact of life. But whenever Slade got mad at him it wasn't because he thought that Dick was weak. Dick's eyes searched the carpet as he bit his lower lip. Slade had to answer his question.

"You're still a child. You're allowed to make mistakes now. Mistakes only make you stronger, so long as you learn from them."

Dick frowned, but didn't comment on being addressed as a child. Slade could almost hear his brain ticking away as he took in Slade's words. They were logical. Well, of course they were logical. He knew that he was getting under Dick's skin by simply being logical. Since he was still deluded by his absurd sense of right and wrong Slade knew that Dick wanted to believe that he wasn't logical. As the villain he shouldn't be relatable. He shouldn't make sense. But Slade wasn't like the Bat villains, who were simply insane. He was rational. And like it or not, they were much more alike than Dick cared to admit. Dick shut his book and turned his head to look at Slade.

"You don't allow me to make mistakes."

"That's not true. I don't allow you to fall back to your old habits. I'm your teacher. I'm here to make sure that you learn correctly. I merely push you until you learn from your mistakes."

For once a civil conversation. There had been far too few meaningful dialogues between them. But perhaps part of it was his own fault for not trusting Dick as much as he should. The mastermind had to be careful not to say or do anything that would upset Dick. As Slade sat there he felt a sudden urge to take off his mask and show Dick his true face. It would make this conversation much more relaxed…more casual…although something held Slade back. He felt that it was too soon. Not until the boy's relations were taken care of could he do that.

The boy leaned back into the cushions and stared at the crackling fire. "You do realize that when you 'push' me it verges on torture, right?"

His voice, surprisingly, stayed calm as he said this.

"Torture and training are two completely different things. I don't drag you out of bed every morning and stick live wires in your eyes now, do I?"

"You could if you wanted to, and I would be forced to let you do it because you can kill my friends."

Ah, so he was speaking more of the psychological torture. Eventually he was going to get over it. It wasn't enough to train the body. Slade wanted to train the mind to resist and endure that kind of psychological torture. Dick understood that he would only be hurt if he did something to deserve it. Slade didn't want to torture him, although he knew that he was slowly whittling away at the boy's mind with the constant threats to kill the Titans.

"I suppose that much is true."

Slade figured that it would be stupid to deny this. After all, Dick still saw him as the villain. Dick looked away from Slade and stared back at the fire.

"Yeah…well…I've already learned one lesson from all of this."

"And what may that be?"

Dick lifted his head. In that instant Slade felt as though he was the one being tested. He could sense that Dick's answer was going to be one that he wouldn't want to hear. If Slade got angry, then their father-son moment would end. Both would end up shouting at one another, most likely they would end up fighting each other, and then the day would end on a sour note. In a way, Dick was testing Slade's tolerance.

"Never push away your friends, especially when they're trying to help you."

His tone was bitter, but it was directed more at himself than at Slade. However, Slade found that he didn't know what to say to this. He had watched Robin slowly descend into solitude as he attempted to figure out Slade's identity, pushing away the other Titans when they tried to pull him away from his work. That was of his own doing.

"Hmm."

What else could Slade say? He could make a comment about how having friends like the Titans were only dragging him down, but then he decided against it. A comment like that would only make the kid feel more depressed.

Slade stood up. Both he and the kid had been given a lot to think about. He placed a hand on Dick's shoulder. To his surprise Dick did not tense up or try to get away from him.

"Be in bed by nine."

Dick nodded once before opening his book again. Slade could not help but feel that both of them had learned something worthwhile today.

A/N:

NOW WHAT DICK IS GOING TO DO IS SOMETHING THAT I HAVE DONE. I WENT OUT AND DID EXACTLY WHAT HE'S GOING TO DO, EXCEPT THAT I MADE WHAT HE MADE WITH DIFFERENT MATERIALS. I WAS SURPRISED AT HOW ACCURATE I WAS.

Just throwing that out there.

Also, I've always thought that Professor Chang is a sleezeball. He really is.

And what's this? A civil conversation? Gosh Slade, you're so bipolar! I dunno how that showed up…it just sort of flowed magically from my fingers as I was typing this chapter up.

Also, kudos for those who caught the Harry Potter reference. I couldn't help myself. Sorry.

Review, you lovely people.